A Slytherin Sex God and The BoyWhoConquered
by J. M. Winchester
Summary: Set after the seventh book, but ignoring the epiloge altogether, because who likes cannon anyway? Hogwarts has been restored some of last year's graduating class comes back to finish their education. HPDM slash, in the near future mpreg.
1. There's Too Many Questions

**A Slytherin Sex God and The Boy-Who-Conquered**

**Chapter One: There's Too Many Questions && Too Many Strings  
**

Black, unkempt hair was all that appeared visible above a dusty, onyx hued comforter, the only indication that the life form existed beneath said blanket was the occasional grunt from an unpleasant dream. The lump groaned as a small creature scuffled in, a tray bearing tea propped expertly on its hand.

"Kreacher, I don't want to." A cold voice said flatly from beneath the blanket.

"Master told Kreacher to wake him so master can go to Diagon Alley today." The tiny creature insisted patiently, more than accustomed to Harry's reluctance.

With a forced resilience, Harry disentangled his arm from its cloth confines and drew the covers down.

"Thanks, Kreacher," He muttered, simultaneously grabbing the cup of tea, drawing his willowy body into a sitting position.

Kreached bowed himself out, all the while muttering about cleaning the room later.

Harry set the cup aside after a hearty sip, throwing the rest of the covers away to reveal the emerald green cotton of his pajama bottoms, "Great," he mumbled cynically, glaring down at his lap. Sweat had glued them insistently to his legs, emphasizing the strange knobbly knees he had inherited from his father. The sheets surrounding him were drenched similarly, making them peel rather reluctantly from his arm, still half submerged in cotton.

He plopped backwards again, one hand placed firmly over his eyes. Once again, piercing grey eyes swam mockingly across his vision, pale pink lips curved up into a taunting sneer.

"What...the..._fuck_?"

----------**Diagon Alley**----------

Harry stood calmly in Madame Malikin's, the owner bustling around him with pins dangling precariously from the corner of her mouth.

"...into your seventh year then, dearie?" She questioned, flicking her wand at a pile of green material.

Harry nodded curtly, wondering how she could do all that she was and find time to question him.

After the war, Draco suffered no revelations. He hadn't suddenly gone soft, and become an upstanding citizen. Certainly not, _he was a Malfoy_, and prissy apologies and lifestyle turn-arounds were simply _not_ his thing. However when he entered the robe boutique he couldn't help but pitty his rival _just a little bit_.

Pale, skinny hands pushed inside the pockets of dark gray robes, his usual smirk firmly in place, "Well, well Potter, don't you look..." Steel eyes traveled down the boy's body before he continued, "...different." He decided finally.

Harry's blood pounded slightly as the familiar voice drifted to his freshly pierced ears.

It was true. He _did_ look different. The last Malfoy had seen him, his untidy hair was short, his face unshaven, and his style...well...different. Harry hadn't really thought much of the changes whilst they were occurring. They came naturally. But now, even as he stood, looking ridiculous in his too big emerald robes, the reality of his appearance hit him.

His raven hair now hung slightly past his shoulders, it's weight managing to pull it into a style that, at least, didn't defy gravity. His black rimmed eyes, though never innocent, now held a detached sort of acceptance that radiated knowledge.

Although Harry could never bring himself to self-mutilation (that would be like stomping on his parents' sacrifice) he seemed to have found a new love for body art. Piercings and tattoos particularly. Thus far he had managed to pierce his ear and lip, and placed a tattoo of two black roses circling his belly button; Lilly, James, Sirius, Remus, Fred, Albus, and Severus's names followed the stems paths.

All in all...he was a virtually different person.

He turned slowly to face Malfoy, "And you...don't," He commented, forcing down the visions of his dreams that resurfaced at the sight of his blonde nemesis.

"...have a friend of mine, her son is in his second year, Arleen Murdock, my friend obviously, not her son, who'd name a boy Arleen? No, his name is Burt---Barney...or well, something with a 'B'." Madame Malkin twittered on, oblivious to Draco's entrance.

Harry stood, staring blankly at Malfoy, ecstatic that he didn't posses the power of occlemancy, wishing he could come up with something witty, perhaps insulting, to say to Malfoy. As it was, it was all he could do to keep his dream, and his breakfast, down where it should be.

Draco reached a hand up to scratch at the side of his head, "Woman, do you ever shut up?" He questioned sincerely. Not once since he had started visiting the store had he ever seen her mouth shut for more than a second or two.

"I-well I-" She blushed, rising with a pink face to stare at Malfoy, "Never! In all my years!" She cried, turning on her heels only to step into Harry, "Can you _believe_?" She questioned incredulously, her eyes wide. She waited a few seconds, perhaps hoping Harry would come to her aid. When he didn't even look at her, his gaze still trained fixedly on Malfoy, she glared at him, making her way angrily around Harry and into the adjoining room where a small girl waited nervously.

All the while she worked around the girl, Harry could hear her muttering; "...the boy-who-conquered...hmph...the boy-who-needs-more-manners if you ask me..."

"No, I suppose she doesn't..." Harry concluded for Draco, not really speaking to anyone in particular, even if he still gazed at the blonde.

"YOU'RE FINISHED!" She snapped at Harry, having heard his conclusion, "...boy has changed _so much_! Poor dear...still, that's _no_ excuse..." she rambled on.

Harry sighed, stepping down from the raised platform to stand, (perhaps a _bit_ closer than usual) in front of Malfoy.

Draco chuckled with his usual silky smoothness despite the somewhat awkward situation. Anything other than exchanging insults with the boy automatically dubbed the moment strange, "Clearly not."

Harry's eyes traveled the length of Draco's body, attempting to squash the feeling of embarrassment at Malfoy's height advantage.

"Clearly," Potter breathed, unusually flustered.

An awkward grin later, Harry side-stepped the blonde and strode out, his hand brushing against Draco's side breifly.

If Draco were the type to have warm-hearted emotions, he'd probably be giddy right about now, but..Malfoys did not suffer giddiness. So let's just call it sexual frustration. The blonde moved over to the display window to watch the boy's retreating figure. "He looks almost decent now..." The Slytherin Prince mumbled, not about to admit that Potter was more than 'decent', he was damn gorgeous, but he was still a Gryffindork, and even with the war over and his overbearing father in Azkaban; Draco simply couldn't start seducing Gryffindors.

He moved to press his weight against the frame of the window, "Hmm...I have already shagged all of Slytherin...well, all of the attractive ones. The rest look like they were bred by trolls...and most of Ravenclaw, touching a Hufflepuff is obviously out of the question, which leaves..." Draco shook his head, taring himself away from the window, "Oi, woman! Are you almost finished over there? I need a robe fitted!"

Once outside, Harry gulped air with a greed that suggested he had been submerged in water for the amount of time he was inside Madame Malikin's. A little of the old Harry gleamed in his eyes as they turned quizzically to the tiny boutique, shoved rudely between the Dervish and Banges and Eeylops.

Potter shrugged, ignoring the fact that his hand could still feel the heat of Draco's body through his robes. "Weird..." He grumbled, turning on his heels to continue his trek down the narrow road that split Diagon Alley. His eyes scanned the shops breifly, checking for anything he may have missed, when they fell upon the stunning purple You-No-Poo poster that marked Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

Harry's eyes remained trained on the building for sometime, attempting to find some excuse to drift away. He hadn't seen George since the night of Fred's death.

The death he felt responsible for, just as he felt responsible for the deaths of anyone who had met their end at the hands of Tom Riddle.

He sighed to himself. With a new found resolution, he moved his feet forward, approaching the vibrant building purposefully.

Harry stepped in, gazing at the once intense hues of the many packages and pranks that lined the wall. Perhaps it was just him, but to Harry, the contents seemed to have lost some of their energy, some of their vibrancy.

"George?" Harry called tentatively, unsure that he would even be there.

A head adorned in coppery red hair popped out of the back room, "Harry!" George greeted cheerfully, a bit _too _cheerfully to be honest. A loud bang sounded, and the lone twin disappeared again, all the while muttering about 'too much Bubo pus'.

He reappeared a moment later, "Sorry 'bout that, Harry." Brilliant blue eyes scanned over the boy, taking in his appearance, "Become a magnet, have you?" He joked, referring to his peircings, "And that hair!" He exclaimed, sounding flamboyantly queer, "Charlie would be _soo_ proud." He clasped his hands in front of him as Mrs. Weasley did atleast twenty times a day.

"I'm sure he would," Harry grinned, his face lighting with humor, "Now about that Bubotuber pus..." He trailed off, peering around the edge of the wall.

With a wicked grin, George shoved him forcefully into the room.

"OH MY - - !"

----------**Platform 9 3/4**---------

Harry gazed happily at the billowing smoke issuing from the scarlet Hogwarts Express, ignoring the stares he got as he lugged his trunk behind him, a cage bearing a large cat hovering a few inches in front of him.

"Harry!" A male voice called, followed shortly by a female echoing it.

Harry turned to see a tall brunette male and a slightly shorter female approaching him, "Hello Neville, Luna," He greeted them warmly, or...as warmly as he could manage.

The school year hadn't even started, and Draco Malfoy had already picked out his first victim. Leaning against one of the brick columns, cold gray eyes bore into Potter's frame, his mind still working out the details of his plan. First off, of course, he had to figure out the boy's sexual preference. Maybe he could convince Zabini to jump Potter or something...Okay, that wasn't going to work for two reasons; one, he had lost favor with the Slytherins, the Zabini wasn't going to let Draco push him around like he had in the past, and two, Potter was _his_ even though he was still in the process of winning him over, and no one other than himself was about to touch him.

Oblivious to his intent watcher, Harry continued to converse rather half-heartily with familiar faces until the arrival of Ron and Hermione.

"Harry!" Hermione called, rushing forward to draw him into a hug, "You look so different!"

"Hey," Ron grinned, shaking Harry's hand.

Harry returned their greetings with enthusiasm, glancing over them as if expecting..._there _it was!

He stared fixedly at Hermione's stomach, "Er...Hermione? Did you - uh...Are you er-" He began, unable to complete the question.

Ron and Hermione blushed simultaneously, Ron scratching the back of his head whilst Hermione began stuttering.

"Er pregnant?...yeah," Ron finally managed, his voice reluctant.

"Uh, congratulations!" Harry mumbled awkwardly, shaking Ron's hand again.

"So...let's find a compartment," He surged on, glancing around.

The couple's face fell.

"Er...Harry? We-we've just come to see you off...I'm not going back to school...not...like this," Hermione frowned, her voice tentative.

"What?!"

"Sorry, mate. With Hermione...pregnant..." He seemed reluctant to say the word, "We have to keep her at home near a doctor."

A year at Hogwarts without Ron and Hermione? Harry's mind went blank.

"It's fine," He heard himself say, almost cheerfully. He continued as Ron and Hermione's faces lightened, "I'm just going to get my N.E.W.T.'s so that I can become an Auror, then I'm outta there!"

He forced a laugh with the others.

"Ooh, where's Teddy going to stay, Harry?" Hermione queried.

"Siri - er, my house...with Kreacher."

Ron looked stunned.

"You sure that's safe, Harry? Leaving him in that stink-"

"RON!"

"Sorry, Hermione."

"Teddy's fine, Ron," Harry stated firmly.

A short blast from the Hogwart's express brought them all back to reality.

"Blimey, look at the haul this year!" Ron exclaimed, gazing around them.

Indeed, Platform 9 3/4 was completely submerged in new faces, drifting around aimlessly chattering with family.

"They can't _all _be first years," He continued incredously, "Look at _that_ beast!" He cried, pointing to a massive boy in too small robes. "He's got to be a 4th year at least!"

"Of course they're not all first years, Ronald!" Hermione snapped, though there was no real venom in her voice, "Durmstang's new headmaster was arrested for trying to force the students into learning the Dark Arts."

Another short blast from the Hogwarts Express echoed around the steadily emptying platform.

"Better hurry, mate." Ron sighed, clapping Harry on the shoulder.

He frowned, looking as if an internal struggle raged a war in his mind.

"Right...er, Hermione? Could I talk to you for a second?" A look from Ron and he hastily continued, "It's about my N.E.W.T.'s."

Hermione looked sceptical for a moment, but consented to follow him to a nearby stone pillar.

"Um...I had a dream-" He began, but was cut off by Hermione, her voice shrill and worried.

"About Voldermort?! Harry-"

"No! No, it was about...Malfoy." He muttered the last part under his breath, indistinguishable from the roar of the scarlet train's roaring engine.

"What?"

"Uh...Malfoy. Dr-Draco...Malfoy." He uttered, mortified.

"Oh, Harry, not this again!"

"No, no, it's not like that! In the dream he...kissed m-" He broke off, the final warning of the Hogwarts Express sounding in time to drown his voice.

"Hurry! Go! Go!" Hermione cried as the train began to pull from the station.

Harry groaned, calling quick 'good byes' to Ron and Hermione before turning on the spot and disapperating onto the train.

He heard a collective gasp as he popped into a compartment absolutely stuffed with giggling 3rd years.

"Harry-"

"Harry Potter!"

Whispers of his name followed by giggles surrounded him, pressing in on him mercilessly.

One brave curly haired girl reached out a hand the grab his arm but released it when he shot her a cold glare. He pushed his way past the 3rd years and stumbled out into the corridor, his clothes slightly disveled but otherwise, intact.

Harry began his trek down the corridor, groaning when he saw that the compartments all seemed to be as full as the one he had apperated into.

He had almost given up hope when he noticed a single empty compartment at the very back of the train. He sighed with relief and stepped into it, realizing immediately why it was empty. The room seemed to be right next to the engine thus excruciatingly loud. Not to mention it held the distinct smell of rotting flobberworm.

With a sigh, he muttered soundlessly under his breath, waving his wand a bit until the smell was gone. With one last incantation he had quieted the engine then plopped himself down onto the seat and covered his eyes.

---------**Meanwhile**----------

"What the hell?!" The Slytherin prince exclaimed angrily, "...damn Durmstrang...fucking deatheater wannabes..." Draco added a new damnation under his breath each time he opened a compartment door. All of the blasted things were filled with the children of had been deatheaters, none of which were too fond of him at the moment. He growled at a third year who stepped on his foot as he made his way toward the back of the train.

Hopefully some of the compartments farther back would be vacant or he could just conjure up a noose...Either way would work.

"This is ridiculous!!" He proclaimed, slamming yet another door shut. He approached the last compartment, ready to give up and look for a place to hang that noose, but wouldn't you know it? Right when he was ready to go suicidal, his luck changed by a considerable amount. The one and only compartment with any room left, and there sat Harry Potter. It couldn't have been more perfect if he had planned it himself. Okay, naturally, if _he_ had planned it, it would have been immaculate. That and the boy would have much less clothing...that smirk of his returned rightfully to thin, pale lips.

"Potter." Draco acknowledged, pulling the door shut behind him.

'Hell and Damnation!' Harry's mind screamed, 'THAT BOY IS EVERYWHERE!!!'

"'Ello, Dra-, Malfoy." He replied, correcting his near 'fatal' mistake quickly.

Draco's smirk widened at the almost slip. Maybe this would be easier than he had originally thought.

Harry cracked his eyes partially to take in Draco's visage, his eyes raking the boys body taking in every crease and bulge...er, for his wand _obviously_.

"Everywhere else full or could you just not stand being away from my company?" Harry questioned sarcastically, his eyes _still_ searching Draco's body...for his wand!

Draco sat down on the bench seat opposite Harry. He stretched his legs out in front of him before he answered, "Oh, someone's grown an ego." He announced, his words, for once, not drowned in bitterness, don't want me associating with them." He mumbled, sounding slightly hurt, not that he'd ever admit that, "So it was either gracing you with my presence or conjuring up a noose to hang myself with." He didn't bother to hide the fact that he was practically devouring the boy with his eyes, "A rather easy decision, I think."

"And by an easy decision, you mean 'bring on the noose', obviously." Harry almost smiled, enjoying the rare chance to not argue with Malfoy.

"Obviously." Draco agreed, nodding his head a little.

Finally giving up the pretense of sleep, Harry sat up, swinging his legs around to prop the up on the seat opposite him.

Noticing the flaxen haired boy's attention, Harry forced down the feelings of pride and excitement. (I'm straight) he reminded himself, and conjured up a feeling of disgust.

"Enjoying you fill, are you?" He questioned cooly, doing a deliberate stretch that pushed his black tee up and revealed his abs, the dark tattoo contrasting beautifully with his sun kissed skin.

Draco's eyes moved over the freshly exposed skin, "Like I said, Potter, you look different." He shrugged dismissivally.

(Umm, yea...still straight) He said mentally again, though it was drowned out by a purring that sounded in his head.

Harry trailed a hand down his stomach with the pretense of grabbing the wand protruding from the hem of his pants.

Steel eyes flicked upward to watch the boy's hand. Was the Boy-who-conquered actually trying to seduce him? God, this really was going to be easier than he had predicted. Hell, he could probably go over there right now and snog Harry senseless without much resistance.

"Hungry?" Harry grinned, slightly wicked, and gazed at Malfoy's face intently.

Draco opened his mouth to, no doubt, give a perverse reply, but decided against it, "Nope that's just _too _easy." He thought aloud.

Harry smirked, the voice shouting (_Straight_ HELLO??) completely ignored.

"Maybe not as easy as you think, Drakie. I can put up quite the chase."

The voice in his head had conjured up a body for itself simply for the pleasure of imaging itself bashing its head against a wall.

(You -bang!- are -bam!- NOT -BANG- GAY!!! STOP -Bam- FLIRTING!) with that final word, the image fell down, face first and lay twitching every few seconds.

"Hmmm...sounds like a challenge." Draco observed quietly.

"Well _I'm_ hungry." Harry shrugged after a pause, and summoned a stack of Cauldron Cakes from the trolley. (he so just stole)

He grabbed one from the pile and crammed it into his mouth, closing his eyes as he swallowed as if it were the most wonderful thing he'd ever tasted.

"Want one?" He questioned politely, flicking out a pink tongue and curling it around his thin fingers expertly, letting no crumb go untasted.

Inside his head Harry's alter ego person ((we'll call him Haep)) twitched disgustedly and groaned in a muffled voice (not.._gay_...)

Draco slouched farther down in his seat accompained by a lazy sigh, "I'll pass." He anwsered distactedly, trying hard, _really_ hard, not to jump the boy right then and there. He was still a fucking Gryffindork, and thus had to be approached with caution.

"Did you just call me Drakie...?" The blonde huffed, "Seriously? C'mon." Draco added in an uberly macho voice that _did not_ resemble a pout in the slightest.

(I called you no such thing!) Haep screeched indignatly.

"So what if I did? Are you going to stop me?" Harry spoke over Haep, his voice _slightly_ louder in an attempt to drown him out.

"Only if you call me that again. Makes me think of Pansy." Draco shuddered for effect.

Just then Harry's body was forced forward slightly as a result of the slowing train. "Hmm...already at school? That was quicker than usual." He shrugged it off and with a flick of his wand, was in his usual school robes, with one distinct difference; the robes bore no house crest.

"Better change Malfoy, you don't want to be trampled in a hoard of burly Durmstrang gits, do you?"

Draco fished out his new Black Walnut wand, his other one having been stolen, and his rightfully wand, unknowingly to him, incased in Dumbledore's tomb. He brainlessly changed into his robe, which was blessedly free of a prefect badge this year, thank fucking Merlin. Speaking of missing things, "Where'd your stupid little Gryffindor thingy go?" Draco frowned for a moment, he _so _didn't just say 'thingy'.

Harry cleaned the random wrappers left by the Cauldron Cakes and resisted the urge to smirk.

"My Gryffindor..._thingy_," He chuckled, "No longer belongs to me. I wrote to McGonagall ocer the Summer and asked to be resorted." The teen left his story there and barreled himself out into the flooded corridors, shoving his way past thers with an almost cruel air.

* * *

**A/N: **This was co-written by myself and Era, I can't recall you penname on here, but that's her nickname. Since two people were writing, if anything comes off as confusing or if it's organized weird, please tell us. We still need a beta, very, very badly. Send me a message on AIM, Jaden334, if you're interested. 


	2. Chapter two

**A/N:** This story is being co-written by myself and Era. Thanks for all of the reviews on our last chapter, they really helped us stay motivated!! && A special thank you to our beta, DarkeningSkye. In case you didn't get it from the first chapter, sure, this stories genre is romance, but it isn't going to be uptight or overly serious. It's secondary genre is humor, and this chapter makes that known. So...I have this weird feeling that pieces of the story will be missing in this chapter. It was giving me tons of problems when I uploaded it.

The truth was, Harry had been so desperate to prove he hadn't changed since killing Riddle that he had to beg Minerva to allow him this one request.

His mind drifted back to that day with ease as he approached one of the many thestral drawn carriages.

So now here he was, having drifted through the night with a fitted sort of indifference. With no house, he had watched the sorting from a corner of the Great Hall, his stomach too clenched to accept food.

He drew in a deep breath and knocked firmly on the Headmistresses door.

"Come in, Harry."

He opened the door, "Good afternoon, Professor." Harry muttered respectfully, taking the seat she offered.

"Alright, let's make this quick." McGonagall said briskly, rising from her seat to retrieve the dusty, damaged Sorting Hat from its perch on the shelves. As she bustled behind him, Harry caught a glipse of Dumbledore in his portrait behind McGonagall's desk, his face impassive as he watched the preceedings. He heard the professor approached him and soon felt the weight of the Sorting Hat as it fell into place on his head.

"Back again, Potter?" A familiar voice sounded in his ear quietly.

"Yes." Harry managed through gritted teeth, his hands clutching the seat beneath him out of anxiety.

"Well now, what's this? You want to start over? And you won't interfere? Well, in that case...I think it's time you were in...Slytherin!" and the Hat fell quiet.

A cold sort of acceptence washed over Harry. He was barely aware that Professor McGonagall had removed the old hat from his head and returned it to its rightful place on the shelf.

He had expected it. Even before the hat had touched his head he had known what the outcome would be. But that didn't make the reality that he would never see the comfortable, brightly lit Gryffindor common room again. Now all he had to look forward to was endless torture from Goyle, Zabini, and...Malfoy. A shiver ran down his arms at the name.

"Well Potter, the Slytherin common room is in the dungeons. Place your wand tip on the wall and you'll gain entry."

Harry nodded numbly, his body moving without his consent out of McGonagall's office and down hundreds of steps to the dungeons. Before he could blink, he stood, wand out at the wall he remembered from his second year.

Students generally go to sleep after the feast, a part of Harry encourged, making him inch his hand closer to the door.

(You...are an idoit...) Haep hissed, (Open the damn door!)

With those final, utterly encouraging words, Harry's wand tip met with the dungeon wall. Imediatly it sank in, followed closely by his arm, then the rest of his body. It seemed as if he were in limbo for a moment and then he was once again facing the cold, extravogant Slytherin common room. It was, of course, decorated in the dark green and silver of the house, filled with uncomfortable straight-backed chairs with skulls hanging along the walls.

Harry sighed, "Home..._sweet_ home."

Draco had been lounging on one of the several black leather couches that adorned the cellar-like room, book loosely held in pale hands, when he had heard someone enter the common room. Naturally, he thought nothing of it, until he heard the boy's voice. Dark gray eyes moved slowly from the book to the source of the sound, worried that if he looked up _too_ quickly Potter wouldn't be there. He smirked smugly, swinging his legs out in front of himself so that he could walk over to Harry.

"Have you decided to stalk me? That's cute." Draco teased.

Harry scoffed, "Hardly. You just seem to be every fucking where I go lately," He shrugged it off, "And I don't do anything..._cute_..." He pouted under his breath.

Draco chuckled, moving closer so that Harry had to move back until the blonde had him succesfully backed against a wall, "Oh contraire, _everything_ you do is cute." He taunted further, voice soft and husky. He waited a moment before he continued on, torturing this boy was way too much fun, "So your in Slytherin now, huh?" He tsk-ed "Your faithful little army is going to be so disappointed."

Malfoy's close procimity was making Harry _very _uncomfortable.

"I think they can manage without me killing them off, thanks." He hissed, the cold dungeon wall casting chills down his spine, "And what the hell are you _doing_?" He demanded, his voice slightly higher than usual as he attempted to merge into the wall.

"I have no bloody idea," The Malferret anwsered honestly, "But, I think, I might just be pinning you to a wall. Which, just so happens to be in the Slytherin common room." He paused for a moment, bringing his hands up to rest against the wall on either side of Harry's shoulders so that he couldn't just bolt, "Which brings me to my next point."

Without meaning to, Harry squeaked, in a very manly way, slash gasped when he saw blonde's arms on either side of him, pinning him to the spot.

As it was, he couldn't bring himself to move even the slightest muscle. Everything right down to his breathing was still. All around him the intocicating scent of sandlewood and hair gel filled his ever pore, making him feel light headed, even drunk.

(Harry! Snap out of it! YOU'RE STRAIGHT!!! Not gay! Straight!!!!!) Haep's voice sounded, distent and weak, but the words still stuck to Harry's soul.

'Right...not gay...' He thought drunkenly, attempting to force his body to move.

(Treacherous body! MOVE!!! CURSE THE SMIRK OFF HIS) 'perfect' (FACE!!!)

"As you may or may not know, I have, with much hard work and about a hundred bottles of hair gel, earned myself the title of 'Slytherin Sex God' and the reputation of bedding every decent piece of ass at Hogwarts...except for Hufflepuffs...and Gryffindorks, obviously. But you see, you aren't a Gryffindor anymore. Thus, you're putting my title in danger, and I can't have that."

Harry's look of horror grew with each implication that flew from Malfoy's mouth.

Which only caused Draco's smirk to widen considerably, "Exactly." He agreed with himself, obviously happy with reaction he was getting, "So you understand my problem then?" Before he had even finished the last word, his head lowered into the crook of Harry's neck, pale lips pressing against the warm, bronze flesh. Tongue flicking out for a moment before he he smirked against the boy's skin, teeth latching onto the novice Slytherin's neck.

Still trapped in a drunken state, Harry could do no more than remain trapped in the Slytherin Prince's web.

"Ah-!" The brunette half moaned before stifling the sound by bitting down on his lip. The moment Draco's teeth actually latched onto the skin, his own set of pearly whites were tainted crimson with a sudden flow of blood from the inside of his mouth.

"Mal-" He chocked, making a deep guteral sound in the depths of his throat, 'Not biting! ANYTHING but biting!!!'

"How can you call me Malfoy when I'm currently the sexiest thing near you? It's Draco, damnit." He didn't give Harry a chance to respond. His lips quickly moved from the boy's neck upward to cover his mouth. Draco let his hands slide down the cool wall to rest on Harry's waist, one of his thumbs dipping under the waistband of the boy's trousers.

Harry was aware oof every part of Malfoy that touched him. Electricity rolled through his mouth and down his body where Draco's lips met his. The hand that rested on his waist caused his knees to buckle and he was acutely greatful for the fact that Draco's body had his pinned against a solid surface.

(NOO!!!) Came Haep's anguished screech from the recesses of Harry's mind. (What is _wrong _with you! Hey! HEY! Stop _kissing him_!!!)

But Haep's voice was drowned out by the intoxicating scent of sandalwood and hair gell and the addictive taste of mint and spiced tea that seemed to cling to the velvet of the other boys tongue.

'Yeah, hell of a lot easier than expected, but seriously, who could deny Draco Malfoy; Slytherin Sex God? He kisses better than I thought he would too...Weaselette tought him well...Fuck he tastes good, like...strawberries...and sugar.' Draco deepened the kiss, pressing Harry closer to the wall in an attempt at keeping himself from laughing, 'He's such a bleedin' girl. Even tastes like one.' He pushed his thoughts away, as entertaining as they were, and pulled back with great reluctance, savoring the metallic taste of blood.

"Dr...Draco," Harry breathed harshly, his head involutarily falling against the Slytherin's neck, "Draco," He breathed again in an inaudiable voice. A warmth spread throughout his stomach at the name, its sylables feeling completely at home on his tongue.

"Please...again..." Mortified at his pleading, Potter nevertheless raised his head to gaze at Draco fixedly, the confusion towards the situation written plainly on his features.

Draco had almost smiled when his name poured from the boy's mouth, almost, but he fixated his lips into a perfect smirk and chimed, "Well, who am I to deny my wicked skills from the masses?"

"Deny your-?" Harry began, but...

One of Draco's hands moved so that his fingers traced along the brunette's neck before tangling themselves into the hair at the nape of the boy's neck.

A strange gasp that flew unbidden from his mouth cut his questioning short. Merlin, he just _had_ to touch his neck...

Harry attempted to half-scowl but, _once again_ Draco found a way to cut him off.

The Slytherin Prince leaned forward to capture the boy's lips again, and it would've felt corny, like some muggle movie, except for the fact that the world had melted away and all Draco could sense was Harry, the taste of sugar and strawberries, his body pressing against the male's. Pushing closer, the blonde slide one of his legs inbetween Harry's.

"Oh fuck!"

Ecstasy. Harry was in pure _ecstasy. _Every sensation brushed against his nerves in the most pleasurable experience of his young life.

Draco tugged of the boy's hair, tilting his head back to grant better access.

Harry allowed himself to be jerked backwards, just as eager to deepen the contact as his mortal-bloodly-enemy-that-just-happens-to-be-snogging-him-into-the-best-erection-of-his-life-thingy.

The kiss deepened and Draco pried Harry's mouth open, his tongue sliding out to swipe Harry's loewer lip, and heould never experience anything so sweet, so fucking brilliant, as kissing his supposed mortal enemy.

Draco almost lost it, his fingers tightened in the male's hair as he pushed closer, closing the distance between their bodies as he nibbled lightly on the boy's lower lip before pulling away to inhale deeply.

Draco smiled, not smirked, that's right, an actual smile, his fingers traced over Harry's neck before he turned away, walking slowly toward the dormitory.

Even as time slowed for Harry, there appeared to be a large gap between the time when the blonde was kissing him and half way across the room.

"Don't know about you, but I need sleep, I'd hate to fall asleep during History of Magic. Professor Binn's lecture with prove to be rivoting, as always. I'd hate to miss it, I _really _would." Draco called through a yawn.

The boy's words barely reached Harry. It was like he was an old radio, only catching bits and pieces of a signal.

"Oh and...Harry," Draco turned back to look at the male, "Slytherins don't say 'please'. You should work on that."

Harry whimpered slightly, barely taking notice of Malfoy's exit, "I'm...a Slytherin..." He whispered in a barely audiable voice. "Slytherin..."


End file.
